Grand Prize
by Zosia Rose
Summary: A squib filmmaker has the perfect subject in mind for his next documentary: Remus Lupin.
1. Proposal

_Author's Note:_ Well, here we are again, yet another story about Remus Lupin. Thank my beta, gem-care-ma, for everything good about this story and blame all mistakes on me. I hope you enjoy. Please review. I love feedback. If I get enough reviews I might continue this storyline. I'm not sure if anyone is interested in something like this. Thanks for reading.

Love and well wishes,

Zosia Rose

When I heard that there was a werewolf in the area, I snatched the fabulous opportunity to interview It. I mean, it was a werewolf, an actual werewolf. How could I not? Now, if I could only find It again, I'd be golden. The rumors said that It was going from business to business looking for work. I'd watched the people's reactions earlier while gathering intel. They'd all turned It away in disgust. One had even spat in Its face. The werewolf hadn't responded as I'd expected. I thought Its kind would've punched the store owner right then and there. But It hadn't. It had merely wiped the frothy white saliva away with Its sleeve and silently moved one. The grizzled old woman who had opened the door at Its next stop had continued the trend, slamming the door in its face before it could get even one word out. But not me. I wouldn't dare turn a werewolf away, not when it meant sacrificing my project. Any other time, I couldn't care less but now, when it was so very crucial to win the contest, I was willing to do virtually anything to get It in the door.

It was getting late and rain had started pounding against the roof of my cottage. I paced the length of the front room, nervous that It would give up before It got to my home. I was just about to give up myself when a shadowy figure limped past my window to stand on the stoop. I rushed over, wanting to examine the thing I'd placed all my hopes on. It hesitated, visibly gathering Its courage, then timidly knocked on the front door. I stood stock still for a second, dumbfounded that It was actually there. The moment I'd waited for all day. The werewolf stared at the door for a bit more, then rubbed a calloused hand across Its face with a deep sigh and turned to leave. That snapped me out of my daze in an instant. The werewolf couldn't leave. It would disrupt all my plans. I rushed to the door, throwing it open. The werewolf jumped a little at the screech of the rusted hinges and glanced back at me.

"Hey," I said.

"Hello," It said.

"Are you the werewolf I've been hearing about?"

Its body tensed, and Its eyes widened ever so slightly. It would've been unnoticable to the average person. Of course, I wasn't the average person. I was a filmmaker. "Yes, sir. I usually am," Its quiet voice held more sadness than fear.

I grinned, "Perfect. I have a proposition for you. Would you like to come inside out of the rain first?" I held the door open behind me as the werewolf stood in the middle of the sidewalk, the heavy raindrops splashing against Its sandy blond hair. It nodded slowly and followed me into the cottage. I gestured for It to sit in the wingback chair by the bookshelf. It did so awkwardly, while I perched myself on the edge of the dining table and studied It. It wore a brown sweater over a gray button-down shirt and jeans, both patched and nearly worn straight through. Its hair drooped down over Its keen amber eyes that sparkled with an emotion I couldn't quite place. Scars traced over Its wan skin, creating a kind of patchwork that I followed with my eyes. Two of them ran vertically down the right side of Its face from forehead to chin. Wire-rimmed glasses with thick lenses framed Its face, their bridge spellotaped together after being broken one too many times.

A half-smile appeared on Its face, though it didn't quite reach Its eyes, "What was your proposition, sir? To stare at me for hours?"

Surprised at Its forwardness, I chuckled a bit, "No, no. I'm making a film. Do you know what a film is?"

"It's a muggle invention. It's a bit like a longer version of our photos," It frowned slightly, "Why?"

"I want you to be the star."

Its eyes widened ever so slightly again and Its lips parted, betraying Its shock.


	2. I'll Do It

Author's Note: Wow, two updates (for this and Picking Up The Pieces) in just over a week. I'm on a roll. Hopefully it will last. Thank you to the people who reviewed, favorited, and followed. You are wonderful. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Sorry it's so dialogue heavy. Thanks so much to my beta, gem-care-ma. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Please remember to review/favorite/follow!

Love and well wishes,

Zosia Rose

"I'm sorry, I must've heard you wrong. You want me to be a movie star?"

I smiled, "Of course. It's a documentary about werewolves and having an actual werewolf in it is guaranteed to get me first place."

"First place?"

"When it's finished, I'm going to enter it in the UK Film Festival," my smile only grew as Its frown deepened.

"The UK Film Festival? You mean you actually want everyone to know that I'm a dark creature?"

"That's kind of the point, werewolf," I laughed outright.

It stood hurriedly, making It wince slightly, "I apologize for the inconvenience, sir, but I can't do this. I'm hated enough without asking to make things worse."

I sighed, grimacing. I really didn't want to have to do this...but I needed to win first place. I couldn't do that without the werewolf.

"Okay, do what you want. But do you really want to go back out there? I saw what the others did to you. Do you like it when they spit in your face, push you down stairs, slam doors before you can even open your mouth to say anything? You know that it's going to be repeated. Over and over and over. I, however, am different. I mean, I let you in here, didn't I? I'm willing to be around you, to work with you. I'm giving you a way out, for goodness sake. If you star in my documentary, you can finally convince everyone once and for all that you and your kind don't deserve the way they treat you. You can prove to them that not all werewolves are bad. You can make things better. And not just for you, either. For all of your kind," I shook my head sadly, watching Its reaction all through my little act, "But if you don't want to...I understand. I can't make you do anything you don't want to do, after all. It's your choice. Now, are you going to help your kind or are you going to run away and abandon them?"

The werewolf was silent for a long moment, then, so quiet I had to strain to hear, "I'll do it."

My easy grin returned as It fell back into the chair, the expressionless mask still in place, "Perfect. Let's get started then. I'll just get my equipment."

Its eyes followed my movements as I grabbed my camera from its waiting place on the bookshelf, "Are we starting right now, sir?"

"Yes, of course," I watched It from the corner of my eye as I set the camera on its stand, not looking directly at It until I was seated in the chair directly across from It, out of the view of the camera. I wanted the shot to focus on the werewolf, not me. If they saw me, my beauty would surely distract from the story. I wasn't worried about my absence though, my voice alone would make the female viewers swoon (and some of the male ones too). I glanced at the camera, making sure the little green light that told me that I had pressed the Record button was flashing steadily.

The werewolf shifted a little in Its chair, Its uncomfort unclear to someone who wasn't looking for it (or who wasn't me), "What should I say?"

I smiled reassuringly, "Well, you should probably introduce yourself. Then we can move on to more complicated things like your entire life story. Don't worry about making it perfect. I'll edit it all later."

"Alright, then," It took a deep breath and began Its tale, "My name is Remus Lupin and I'm a werewolf. Quite obvious, isn't it?" It gave a humorless laugh.


End file.
